Halo: Vereor Nex
by Zachg56
Summary: Flung into the far future, members of the newly christened Fallujahn Guard most now fight a war in a universe that they barely understand....A spin off of the Halo Universe
1. Prologue: Intro's are always the Hardest

**Intro's are always the hardest**

_We thought the mission was winding down. We thought we had taught our enemies a lesson in blood, ideals, and patience. We thought most of us could go home. We were tired. We were determined. We were proud. We thought we had won._

We didn't hear the warnings. We didn't feel the pressure. We didn't want to believe what we were seeing. We didn't think they would be that stupid.

We were wrong.

They started it on the internet...out of China. Government computers crashed, financial networks in disarray, you get the picture. Then they made us pay for it on the ground. Iran struck first, before we could react. China struck next, pressuring their neighbors into submission. It was a real cluster fuck.

Three years later, we were finishing the fight. The world had never seen blood spilled like this. We had to retake the Middle East, and most of the Pacific. Coalitions rose up against the tyranny: Middle Eastern states bound together, Free Asian states uniting…and we, we happy few.

We earned decisive victories in Fallujah, Wake Island, Hong Kong, and Damascus bringing the war to its final leg. Although most of the joint forces in the Battles of Wake Island, Hong Kong, and Damascus suffered moderate to light casualties, the Battle of Fallujah had the heaviest losses in the entire war itself. We lost many brothers and sisters inside the city fighting for every street and building.

It was in Fallujah that it happened. Two entire battalions of US Soldiers, Marines, and Airmen lost on the outskirts due to unknown causes. That group and whatever was left in their opposing forces were never heard from again until over five centuries later.

We found ourselves unchanged…except for the time. Five hundred years…same faces, same equipment, same confusion. But a totally different world. Hell if any of us could figure it out. This is our story.


	2. Chapter 1: One way Ticket!

_Chapter 1_

_One way ticket!_

_1600 Charlie time_

_Camp Taji, Iraq_

_June 19, 2015_

_44 hours before temporal event_

_The desert sun, a warming sight in the midst of the bloody war that has ensued for the past five damn years_ thought Lieutenant Josh Carson as he walked to the command post, t_oo bad it may be the last_. As he thought about this, memories of friends, brothers, and sisters crossed into his mind; most of them lost in the first few weeks of the war, a war that wouldn't end soon enough. Memories were soon replaced with thoughts and anxiety for the briefing up ahead as he walked up the steps into the command post. "Welcome LT, they've been expecting you." said the soldier guarding the entrance, a private to be exact, not much older than a high school graduate at best.

"Lieutenant Carson: the meetings over here!" yelled SSgt Joshua Albertin as the Army officer clearly had no clue to were he was going. Anyone else couldn't tell, but Carson could: beneath the mask of SSgt Albertin's stern gaze was a shit-eating grin. "Lieutenants and maps, lieutenants and clocks…At least you remembered to put your pants on before your shoes," chuckled the Sergeant as he patted the young officer over the back. "Come on old friend let's get this over with ok?"

* * *

It was ten minutes before the first General came into the room. The room fell silent as the audience stood at attention. When The Man takes the time to give a pep talk…well, that means it's more serious than we thought. Like most officers at the time, these men were no fools to what was going around them. "All right men settle down, this meeting was supposed to start yesterday" said General Baton, one of the more affluent members of the board of Generals considering it was he that helped mount the defense of what was left of the coalition forces that were in Iraq during the first offensive by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. That was the least they had to worry about. Having him in the room sent a chill down everyone's spine causing many to shiver with resignation.

"Men, I know that this war has gone long enough, and that we would all like to go home to our families. Hopefully this next operation will enable us to do that very thing" GEN Baton said as the room darkened. "As many of you know, the newly formed MEC asked us for help in regaining most of what was rightfully theirs in the first place. Ironically they asked us to take care of the Hornets' Nest: Fallujah. I hope many of remember what happened the last time we took it." _Yeah don't we all_, whispered SSgt David Miles, a Marine next to Carson and Albertin. _Miles if you don't shut the fuck up I'm gonna ring your neck_ whispered another Marine, too dark for the LT to recognize, didn't really matter though considering he was paying more attention the briefing instead.

"Considering that the Quds have dug themselves deep inside the city, there will be a three pronged attack, two from the land and one in the air. First things first the 170th Air Expeditionary Group will attack first at dawn, thus causing enough chaos for the ground troops to move in from the sides." _Next slide please_! thought the officer, Marine, and airman at the same time, something they got down to a science when it came to briefings. "Next we'll have Bravo, Easy, and Foxtrot Company move in from the East while Alpha, Charlie, and Echo come in from the West." _Cha-ching_ "Finally we'll have 3rd battalion alongside 5th battalion of the 3rd MEU come in from the North securing a town just upon the outskirts of the city itself."

_Say What?!?_ Right before he could stop himself Carson stood up, causing much embarrassment to the officers and NCOs around him. "Excuse me sir, but why have two whole battalions secure a town that won't be part of the main battle, let alone the fact that it could ruin the entire operation?" Carson said, with plenty more questions to ask in the face of such a ludicrous plan. Surprisingly, GEN Baton didn't issue the expected smack down to the impertinent LT. "I'm glad you asked that son, I'll explain it in due time."

* * *

Comments:

Okay, now I know what most people are thinking; why are we just 20 minutes in the future and not set in the 26th century like the Halo Universe is actually set in. I have a reason for that, it's a spin off. Halo is one of my favorite Sci-Fi universes out there, right next to W40k, Star Wars, Command and Conquer, Macross and Starship Troopers (the book, not the movie series which has no real relation to the book at all), but I thought had some holes that needed to be addressed; such as, where the hell are the other branches of the armed forces and why do some of the rebels fight against the UNSC. I also got to thinking: Hmmm, what if a group of 21st century soldiers, got sent to the future somehow, how would they react, and over the years, what becomes of them?

Since the actual Halo universe is set in stone, I decided to throw a spinner in the works, and see how things turn out.

Currently, this is a co-op project between me and a couple of friends who also liked the idea; (although for all technical purposes, I am the main writer of the group) so expect some differences as to how the actual chapters are done.

Until next one…


	3. Chapter 2: OPORD

_Did he say auto launch or manual?_

_2000 Charlie time_

_Camp Taji, Iraq_

_June 19, 2015_

_40 hours before temporal event_

"Incoming Sapper!", yelled an engineer behind the noncom and lieutenant, just as soon as they exited the building. _Heheheh, surprise mutha fuckers!_ Thought SPC Zach Graham as he came walking right behind the newly _invigorated_ officers. Unlike the rest of the soldiers in his platoon, Zach excelled at reaching higher levels of insanity to mess with any REMF in sight. Fortunately for the Lieutenant and SSgt, he was more excited about finding out about what happened in the meeting. "So how'd the meeting go ahsha—I mean comrades?" _Whoops, nearly slipped back to Arabic there _"Are you gonna tell me who the hell I have to work with this time or do I have to let you guys can an hour's respite?" While everyone else within hearing distances thought that the specialist was a goner, both Carson and Albertin were relieved to see a friendly face in a crowd of rear echelons and fobbits.

"Zach, give us an hour or two to figure things out, then we'll tell ya who you're working with, ok?" replied SSgt Albertin, weary and anxious to figure out what the hell the generals in that meeting were thinking. _A fucking unknown? You have got to be kidding me, why not just call it a flux capacitor or something like that?_ As he walked away he overheard a group of privates arguing over who would win the World Series. To be able to worry about such trivial things would be a luxury the sergeant could not indulge in, not with problems he faced. Imagination went wild in his mind as the list of reasons why a surgical strike would be better than sending the entire army. Even though the big guy explained it thoroughly, it still didn't make any sense to him. _I hope to god the old man knows what he is doing or there'll be empty seats on the flight home._

* * *

_12 hours later_

"Drop your cocks and grab your socks, it's another beautiful day in the suck, courtesy of Uncle Sam!" yelled an airman as he whacked the sergeant in the head with a trash bag. _If he pulls that shit one more time I'm gonna shove the bag up his ass. _Grudgingly, the sergeant woke up due to the fact that getting smelted with trash is not a good way to wake up after a peaceful nap. Rising, he wiped the last remnants of sleep from his eyes and pulled on his boots. He had been issued a new pair before he landed in this desert paradise, but now the soles were walked down to almost nothing and tan color was now bleached almost white from the sun. Even his uniform was noticeably lighter, probably to match his graying hair. _I need to stop re-upping, I'm getting way too old for this shit._ With his boots and top on, SSGT. Albertin left his tent to face the coming day.

_Woo boy, Zach's got nothing on this one _thought JFO Michael Ihmolte as he raced outside to escape the sergeant's wrath. _Neither does Dave, Casey, or the rest of the platoon! _Like SPC Zach, he was one of the few that had the balls to do something like that; even though he was really not supposed to do stuff like that, Michael still couldn't help having fun with the sergeants every now and then. Only problem he had is that once he's done something like that, he would forget where he was going and would miss formations and team meetings. If it weren't for Zach and Casey looking after his back all the time he would be constantly be in the leaning rest for being late. Just like always the sapper and tanker had to yank him back to reality as they ran into him on their way to their respective pre-mission briefings.

"Platoon, Atten-shun!" The call brought everyone immediately to their feet, and earned a glare to those too slow for the Plt. Sgt.'s liking.

"Sit down, let's get started. Our mission is this town, Haqlaniyah, northwest of Fallujah and just south of the Buhayrat al Qadislyah Dam. Our objective is this building, a suspected research building and lab used for secret weapons projects. Can someone get the slides? Thanks. Ok, as you can see the target is located on the main strip 150 meters up the road from the market. Surrounding the building is a wall with 4 entry points, one on each side with the largest being the access gate from the road for trucks and heavy machinery. It has three floors and at least one basement level though our intel suggests possibly another used for storage. The first level is all labs; with the second and third being research facilities with a couple of break rooms and latrines. North of the objective is an open field with irrigation ditches running through it, while south and east are heavy residential areas.

"Intel states that the facility is lightly defended by an under strength company of Iranian Revolutionary Guard. Qud forces bolstered with local sympathasizers have been spotted at this training facility to the northeast 10kms away. Civilians should not be too much of a concern since most of the town has fled west over the last couple of days though that's not an excuse to become sloppy. As for inside the facility, we believe there to be a team of approximately 22 researchers and scientists. Overall resistance will be light.

"Here's the plan: the rest of the battalion will seize an area just north of Fallujah while we move out to grab this piece of real estate. At 2015 Alpha and Delta teams will move at from this holding position 1km to the west while Bravo, Charlie, and Echo will provide over watch and security for the flanks. Delta will secure the immediate area with special attention to this building on the northeast corner. Intel believes it to be the barracks for the soldiers and scientists at the facility. Once the perimeter is secured Alpha will breach through the west gate and clear the facility. I'm sorry to rain on your already amazing day, but all teams clearing through the building will have to wear pro-masks since we don't know exactly what chemicals hajji has been cooking in there and I don't want to stick atropine in your ass. Moving on, after Alpha has secured the building Bravo will attack through and take up holding positions across the street in this line of houses. Charlie will move to this building to the northwest to secure our rear and provide, if needed, QRF for the facility. Echo will move along the dirt road bordering the field and entrench themselves in this ditch running along the road to provide security in case those Quds decide to show up. Delta, once Alpha has finished securing the facility and its all clear you will move across the road and hold up in the buildings north of Bravo. We will hold this facility until a NBC platoon and battalion S-2 can arrive to take control of the facility. Once that happens we will move through the rest of the town and hold up on the outskirts of town to await further instructions or relief.

"Now that's through here's my thoughts; gentleman this is an easy mission. We have done harder with less, but don't lose your focus. The Iranians maybe worse soldiers but they can still put up a fight so don't get complacent. Your professionals, the best soldiers in the battalion, so let's get this job done and go home. Questions? If not, team leaders stay behind, I have some additional info to put out, everyone else is dismissed"

* * *

**Comments**: So Yeah, we're still in the modern day world for now. In case people are wondering how long the story takes place in the present time, it's only three chapters, and by that time both the progress of the story's chapters will lengthen up a bit (as in broken into parts), but things will also start to pick up in terms of the various political and military machinations going on through out the story.....or if need be, just flesh that portion out in a side story of its own depending on how deep we get into talking about 3rd Platoon.


	4. Chapter 3: Exceptions prove the rule

_"It is not the big armies that win battles, it is the good ones."_

--Maurice de Saxe, Marshal-General of France, 1747-1750

_Time sure does suck in the battlefield_

* * *

_2014 Charlie time_

_Field nearby Haqlaniyah, Iraq_

_June 20, 2015_

_5 hours before temporal event_

"All White elements, report status in sequence, over". Lt. Carson knew his squads were ready, but in the Army, you had to be sure. They had spent the last hour moving from their staging area 5 km away and were now in position overlooking the town of Haqlaniyah. Just a click away was their target, and already his squads were moving into their launch points. "White 6, Echo 1, Green to green, over". "Echo 1, Roger, out". Everyone was set, almost time to go. Carson spied a quick glance at his platoon sergeant, a grizzled old timer who was on his fourth tour to the sandbox. He was moving from squad to squad checking on everyone. Although SFC Joseph would never admit it, he considered all the guys to be like his sons and cared for the welfare of all of them. _Yeah, even when SPC Zach occasionally called him, "Dad"_.2014, one more minute till they moved out, and then the fun would really begin. Joseph, finished with his rounds, slid in silently next to Carson. "They're ready to go sir".

"I could have told you that and saved ya the trip".

"Old habits die hard".

"Key word being old, I swore your knees cracking woke up the whole town".

"When you can outscore me in PT you can talk all the smack you want sir, but until then I suggest we get going; you _do_ remember where we're going, right? Because you know you can't spell 'lost' without 'LT'". Looking at his watch Carson saw he was right. 2015. Pulling the hand mike to his ear, he gave the order.

"White 1 and White 2, move out". SSG Albertin turned to his squad, "Alpha and Bravo Teams, let's move". Silently they rose from their positions and moved into the town. A hundred meters to their left 4th squad was doing the same. The whole town was cast in a greenish hue from their NVGs. Though few of the lights were on in the town, once they reached the target buildings they would have to put them up, lest they be blinded. Once the shooting started though, he might "accidently" shoot some of the offending lights. Slowly, they moved into the outskirts of the town, all scanning the windows, doorways, roofs, everywhere. One never knew where death might be lurking, and in the MOUT environment, it lurked everywhere. As they moved further in, the teams spread to each side of the road. The town was silent as death, not even the dogs were barking. This gave some relief to Albertin, with someone keeping a muzzle on the dogs, that meant that there were going to be at least a few people who didn't know they were coming. He couldn't help but keep that old predator's smile off his face. SPC Zach wasn't feeling so cocky; he couldn't help feeling a chill go down his spine as he moved. He had been in cities before, but there was always some noise, some indication of life. _Man, how come I have to get the bad feelings all the time_.

"White 6, White 4, we are in position outside the fence". They had no problems moving through the town. Looking through his binos SSgt. Hawkins checked the perimeter for signs of the Iranians. He could see four moving around the building and 2 more at the rear gate. _Easy pickings_. Looking to his right he saw First squad setting into position. Once they were ready he would assault and breach the gate, giving Alpha the entrance they needed to get to the lab. "White 1, White 4, I have 4 moving inside the perimeter, no movement seen inside, over".

"White 4, Roger that, ready to move, out". The voice that came out was distorted from the pro-mask he was wearing. Once they had reached the last line of buildings before the target they had quickly donned their masks, not knowing what kind of chemicals they would run into inside. Room clearing was hard enough; it was made harder with vision reduced. At least he knew his teams were ready for the task. Alpha team would move out first, secure the first floor, and then check downstairs while Bravo moved upstairs. Waiting for the signal, sweating in their masks, his men waited to unleash the hell that awaited the guards.

"Roger, White 1, ready to move, out". _Go time_. Looking over to SGT Chavez, his Bravo team leader, Hawkins gave a quick nod. Chavez gave thumbs up, and then turned to his men, "Let's go". While his men moved up to the gate Alpha was moving to the left to secure the building overlooking the guard's barracks. Once they blew the gate, Alpha would breach the door, take the house, and lay hate on anyone dumb enough to go outside. Moving at the low ready, they slowly approached the gate, the 2 guards didn't see the soldiers moving towards them. 75meters, 50 meters, 40 meters, the guards look up to see what's there, too late. With 2 quick shots from Specialists Barajas and Ellenberg, the two dropped like sacks of potatoes, unmoving. "Move it!" There was no need for silence now. Sprinting for the gate, the team reached it in just a few seconds. "Blow the door!" While everyone else moved out to provide security, Ellenberg ran up to the door, pulling out his C4 blocks and fuse, giggling as he did so; Barajas was pulling security for him when he heard the noise; "Dude, are you……giggling?"

"I love me some booms." Barajas just shook his head.

Inside the wall they could hear sounds of yelling voices calling for assistance, quickly silenced by gunfire. "Charges set!" "Alpha team move back!"

"White 1, White 4 Bravo, charges set, 10 seconds". The call went out as Alpha team finished securing the house. Moving quickly the made their way to the roof, glad the house was empty. Sgt. Grage, the team leader, spread his men out with SAW in the middle, his M203 at the end. "Let's go, local security just like we rehearsed. Hey Campbell! Pull your head out of your ass, and get in position!"

Looking into the courtyard they could see men running to the gate. "Open up!" The SAW and M4s began to fire on the men running, dropping them in mid stride. Three more ran from barracks, but only made it a few steps before being hit too. No one was going to get past them.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE HOLE!" With the third shout a loud blast tore through the area. Before the smoke had cleared First squad was already running for the gate. What had once been a metal door had been reduced to scrap. Moving as fast as they could the approached the double doors into the building, going past the guards White 4 had dealt with moments before. With barely a hesitation, his Alpha team was through doors into the lobby. A flurry of shots rang out, and the guard behind the main desk fell back, his AK shooting holes into the floor. "Bravo team, move to the stairs!" Still sprinting, Bravo rounded the corner and, stacking on the stairs, began to proceed up.

"White 6, White 1, first floor cleared, one enemy KIA, moving out to finish clearing". "Roger White 1, Charlie Mike". Carson had heard the blast as the rest of the platoon moved through the town. Once First and Fourth had reached their jumping off points the rest of the platoon had moved out, ready to move though the objective and set up security. His men were contact, and knowing time was essential, he picked up his pace.

"White 4, White 6, SITREP, over". Dropping behind the side of the roof, Hawkins quickly dropped his empty magazine and slapped in a full one. "White 6, White 4, Alpha Team is moving to the right side to secure the flank, I'm with Bravo on the roof, we have heavy fire coming from the barracks, no casualties, over". "Roger that, we're, 2 mikes out from your position, over". "Roger, 2 mikes, out". Dropping the hand mic, Hawkins got back up and returned fire at the barracks. Realizing they couldn't get out, the Iranians had preceded to fire from the upper story windows at their attackers. They had killed many, but their fire hadn't slackened at all. Suddenly, pieces of the roof started to fly off. "Take cover!" The RPK stitched across the roof while Spc. Smith opened up with his SAW, though he was forced to take cover as well, the incoming fire being too heavy. "Grage hit it!" Quickly loading his M203, Grage popped up and fired at the window the RPK was at. The round exploded against the wall, 4 feet short. The machine gun never let up. _Son of a Bitch!_ Reaching into his pouch he pulled out another HE round. This one flew right through the opening, blowing apart the enemy gunner. _There goes one Kentucky Fried Raghead._

Room clearing is hazardous to an infantryman's health. Every doorway is a fatal funnel, every room a mystery. Moving down the hallway, Bravo team had methodically cleared every room and closet on the second floor, meeting only a few scientists who they quickly zipcuffed and had Alpha secure, they had encountered no resistance so far. Slowly moving up the stairs, scanning up and ahead, Sgt. Deugan moved onto the third floor. A door was 10 feet ahead on the right side. Moving at the low ready, his team silently stacked on the door. Once on the door, he hit the man behind him on the leg, the signal moving quickly to the man in the rear. Moving to the door, he brought his leg up and kicked open the door. Before the door had fully opened rounds began pouring out of the room, hitting the last man in the legs. Luckily PFC Grenard, the 2 man, had hold of his IBA and pulled him back, or else he would have walked right into a wall of fire. The wounded man pulled himself to the other side of the door. _Fuck this shit_. Reaching into a pouch, he pulled out a surprise the guards would not like.

The grenade blast shook the building. "White 1, this is 1 Bravo, upper level cleared, one wounded, moving him downstairs to the CCP, over". "1 Bravo, roger, break, White 6, White 1, over".

"Go ahead".

"White 6, target building secured, one wounded, over".

"White 1, copy one wounded, how bad is it, over".

"He's litter urgent, no special equipment, over".

"Ok roger," _Fuck_ "link him up at the CCP with White 7, he's working up the 9-line; how many scientists do you have, over".

"White 6, we have 8 civilians, over".

"Roger that White 1, continue searching the building, out". _Shit! _Carson had hoped to avoid having casualties; at least everything was going off like clockwork. White 4's alpha team had moved around front and secured the area. The guards at the access gate had run off before they got there, but he doubted he would see them again. The only thorn in…WHAM, WHAM, WHAM.

"White 6, White 4, under heavy RPG fire from the north, we just took 3 hits to the roof, no casualties so far, but we're in trouble, over".

"White 4, this is Echo 1, I monitored, I'm bringing in my guns."

SSG Schaffer's weapons squad had just about reached 4's position when the rockets slammed into the building. The rounds had come from an entrenched position in the field to the north. Moving out on line, Echo 1 quickly closed the gap. He had already picked out a good rooftop to set up his support by fire, all he needed to do was race up the stairs with his gun teams. "C'mon Roberts, bust out that SMA-D, they're gonna need it!" Roberts was fumbling with his ammo, tripod and the SMA-D, a compact 84 mm rocket that was as loud when you fired it, as it was when it exploded. Echo 1 set his guns up on the lip of the roof and unleashed hell. The two M240B machine guns were old, but boy were they reliable and just plain nasty to be on the receiving end of. Schaffer could hear one of his gunners, SGT McCaffery, shouting obscenities, at his enemies, a sure sign that the firefight was going well. Schaffer was about to punch Roberts in the helmet, when he saw his get his life together, and come up on a knee, the SMA-D on his shoulder. A loud BOOM shook the ground, followed almost immediately by a satisfying explosion at the enemy position.

"Holy shit!" Roberts exclaimed as he remained on a knee awestruck at what he had just done. SSG Schaffer paused and waited to see Roberts' reaction, it was always a toss-up with the newbs, but true to Echo squad form, Roberts yelled, "Yeah I got you motherfuckers!"

Echo 1 smiled, "Yeah good job Roberts, now go help out your gunner, he needs some ammo!"

"Huh, what?" Roberts looked over at SPC Kim, who was now yelling, "I need bullets!" Roberts dropped the now useless SMA-D, and scrambled over to Kim to link rounds.

Schaffer thought the enemy might try to drag their wounded off the rooftop, and blend into the night, but these were Iranians, they usually stayed to fight; as such the outcome was never in doubt.

"White 6, Echo 1, position secured, 6 enemy KIA, no friendly casualties, we're holding position". _At least that's one less thing to worry about_, the Platoon Leader thought. Spc. Coad, "his" medic, had already sent the 9-line up to the company TOC with a Medevac 20 minutes out. The wounded man, a recent addition to the platoon, had multiple gun shot wounds to his leg, but luckily it wasn't serious enough to kill him. "Barracks." He spoke into his mic, and with that simple word, reminded everyone that the mission was not over, they had one more obstacle to overcome. The barracks; a three story building that looked formidable on the graphics, now looked worse on the ground. Second and Third squads, were moving to better positions, First was ready to gain a foothold, and start clearing operations, which the young lieutenant knew was going to get some good people killed. With a smile, Carson thought of a solution to his little problem.

"Echo 1, this is White 6."

"Send it." Schaffer replied, which was short for "send your traffic"

"How's your ammo situation?" There was a pause before Schaffer replied, "Good to hook".

"Ok, roger. White 1 and 2, engage with SMA-D, and 40 mike-mike, Echo, suppress, and I mean _hard._ White 3, watch for squirters, White 4 you're on call to clear with White 1." Carson heard, "Copy" five times, blew out his breath and said, "Engage."

Lt Carson had never seen such an awesome display of firepower in his life save for an airstrike. Four loud booms, followed by four explosions ripped the night apart, and lit it up like a night game at the ballpark. The chattering of the M240's, punctuated by the smaller explosions from the 40 mike-mike, laid a steel curtain of death. LT Carson felt that they probably wouldn't have to fire a shot once they went into the building.

The commander of the Iranian Guard troops decided that staying in the building was suicide and decided to make a break for the houses across the street. He had hoped some of them would make it; he hadn't counted on Third squad. Carson looked at his watch; 2045, the battle for Haqlaniyah was over.

* * *

Authors Comments: If you can't tell already, the next few parts of the present day story are essentially ghost written. Due to my lack of knowledge and experience with infantry combat as well as MOUT environments itself, I got a friend who has a better grasp of such scenarios, gave him a very short and brief idea on what was supposed to happen, and let him do whatever he felt was neccessary. WHat we originally had planned was for the arc to end in one fell swoop; then we realized that we had hit a snag, needed to lengthen it, and thus came with idea to make each chapter a portion of a longer arc to help develop this universe and minimize any plot holes. Yes, I did do s writing...the original draft that is...Expect to see some shout outs to various works of art here and there....like Star Wars...W40k, FEAR 2, etc etc.


	5. Chapter 4: and ruin the battle plan

_"To be a successful soldier you must know history. Read it objectively, dates, even minute details of tactics are useless. What you must know is how a man reacts."_

--George S. Patton

_

* * *

_

Weee're Back!

_23:05 Charlie time_

_Field nearby Haqlaniyah, Iraq_

_June 21, 2015_

_2 hours before temporal event_

"Sir, we're secure." This from the Platoon Sergeant to his Platoon Leader, 1LT Carson.

The young lieutenant cocked his head to listen to any ambient noise and heard the normal sounds of his Platoon's radios, heavy breathing of young men trying to force oxygen through the bulky chemical masks, and his Team Leaders repositioning their security. No gunfire at all.

"And so we are," he once more put the handmic to his face and said, "Alpha Four, are you still with us?"

"Affirmative," came the specialist reply.

"Well good. Come to me; let's find someone you can talk to."

SPC Zach walked into the room as LT Carson spoke the last word. SPC Zach, grinning under his mask, replied into the handmic anyways, "Sir, are you implying that I can only talk to certain people?"

"Smartass. Is this whole Platoon full of nothing but smartasses?"

"Oh sir I wouldn't say _that_," SFC Joseph quipped. "I think that some of them have smart mouths."

"Yeah," said SPC Zach jumping in, "and some of them are downright wiseacres."

LT Carson just looked at them both, thinking that they both looked a little like Darth Vader, but he couldn't recall Darth Vader being a smartass.

"All White elements, this is 6. I need one of the scientists to my position," LT Carson thought about this for a moment and then added, "one who isn't bleeding preferably. Echo, I'm looking at you."

From his position on the rooftop Echo 1 yelled out, "That's bullshit!"

White 6 smiled knowing that the Echo guys wouldn't ever harm a detainee intentionally, but that they weren't always the most careful with them. Within a few minutes, Echo 1 himself brought in one of the scientists, _unharmed_.

"There, ya see? Couple of scratches, but nothing broken."

"What is that smell? SPC Zach asked.

"Um yeah, he shat himself. But that is not my fault!" SSG Schaffer quickly added.

LT Carson grabbed an overturned chair from the corner of the room, and dragged it across the floor to place it in front of the detainee. SSG Schaffer sat the detainee in the chair, and took the blacked out goggles off of his head. LT Carson didn't give him a moment to get his bearings.

"Where are the chemical weapons?" Lots of people when conducting tactical questioning, start by asking who the person is. Unfortunately, in this part of the world, a name is not as simple as Jim Jones, John Doe, or Bubba Smith, it involves hearing about the person's father and grandfather, and then how they're personally related to Mohammed himself. However, a simple direct question, doesn't give the detainee a lot of opportunity to start thinking of lies and cover stories. But this detainee, this scientist who just a short while ago royally shat himself while dangerous men were trying to kill each other, listened to the question, looked at the four Soldiers in the room, threw back his head and started to laugh.

"Sir," SPC Zach said, "that's not good."

"White 6 this is White 1, over."

"Send it, 1."

"We've found a basement thingy, and I hope that guy you're talking to, knows a combination."

"White 1," Lt Carson said with a laugh in his voice, "are you saying that you can't breach a door?"

"Sir, the JTAC couldn't breach this door."

"Oh ho ho, I bet I could!" JFO Imholte shot back.

"Both of you, shut up." LT Carson looked at the laughing detainee again, and then grabbed his face until they were nose to mask. "Time for you to open a door."

SPC Zach didn't bother to translate, and the scientist stopped laughing.

When they got to the door that White 1 and his squad were guarding, LT Carson was convinced that SSG Albertien wasn't exaggerating; maybe the JTAC _couldn't_ breach this door. To call it a door was doing it a great disservice; some banks would be jealous they didn't have a door like this. It was easily 10 feet tall by 6 feet wide.

"Open it." LT Carson told the scientist.

He shook his head.

"Open it." LT Carson repeated.

He shook his head again, and then started praying.

"Ah shit, now we'll never get anything out of him." LT Carson said with a sigh.

"Sir," SFC Joseph started, "give us a few minutes alone with him."

"Whoa, whoa. I don't like where this is going."

"Sir, is it safe to say that me, Schaffer and Zach here know more about this culture than you do?"

LT Carson opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it. He thought about those first few weeks at The Point, where the seniors told them that it was their Platoon, that the Platoon Sergeant would try to run the Platoon, and not to let them because they didn't know what they were doing. And how they had said that there was no such thing as, "NCO business". LT Carson had learned the hard way that that bit of advice was dead wrong.

"Alright Sergeant, you've got your alone time." And with that, Carson took 1st Squad, and went back up the creaky stairs.

And with that, the three men turned towards the scientist.

"The officer's gone," SFC Joseph growled. "It's just us down here, and one way or another, you're opening that door."

Upstairs, LT Carson paced. He looked at his watch, and paced some more. As time dragged on, he thought more and more that maybe leaving the veteran sergeants down there with the detainee was not a good idea. He started going through, how the tribunal proceedings would go, in his head. He thought about how he was kissing his commission goodbye at the very least. Letting detainee abuse take place, or God forbid, let a detainee die, was a one way ticket to a prison cell. After all these years, the US Army still bore the scars and the shame of Abu Gharib, and the brass hammered anyone, or anything that smacked of that place. The fact that he wasn't hearing any of the sounds associated with torture, only made his mind race faster. He was about to key the handmic when,

"Ok 6. You can come on down now, door's open."

Lt Carson saw that the door was indeed open, but instead of the same dirt walls that he had come to expect in this part of the world, the door opened to a pristine corridor with white walls and a black floor. LT Carson turned to the scientist and said, "Admit it; you guys watched a bunch of Star Wars when you came up with this décor didn't you?"

SSG Albertin had to admit, it did kind of look like the interior of a Star Destroyer. "Maybe there's hope for these people after all, sir." He quipped.

But LT Carson wasn't biting, he was starting to get nervous. This didn't feel right; this was beginning to look like a place where computers were manufactured. _Was…Was it getting cold?_

"Does anyone else feel cold air?" LT Carson asked.

"Oh roger sir, it seems like there's a right powerful A.C. system down here." SFC Joseph said in his distinctive drawl.

"I should call to higher."

"Sir, we should wait and see what we've got, it's embarrassing to call higher and not be able to answer the fifty questions their going to ask."

LT Carson nodded at the sage advice. "Ok, in we go," he paused and smacked his forehead, "Shit. Zach ask him about booby traps."

"Oh there are no booby traps, sir. We asked already."

"And you believe him?"

"Oh hell no. That's why he's going first."

"Good plan. Alright mister scientist, in you go."

At first the scientist hesitated, until SSG Albertin poked him in the back with his pistol, then the procession made their way down the hallway. They turned left, and found themselves at a four way intersection.

"Hey White One Alpha, this is White One, bring the rest of the squad in here, we gotta clear."

"Roger, on the way." Came back the reply from SGT Rodriguez.

About five minutes later Albertin was mask to mask with his Alpha Team Leader.

"Hey Sarge, did we teleport into another dimension or something," SGT Rodriguez asked while looking around, "There's no way that we're still in Iraq."

"No, we're still in Iraq. I guess these guys don't fuck around with their chemical weapons. Although at this point I think we're going to find biological ones. Hey take your Team and clear to the right. SGT Deugan, take your team and clear to the left. You guys don't take any chances. If you come up on another intersection, then hold it; don't try to continue to clear."

"Roger." They both answered, and got to work.

Outside of the bunker, SSG Schaffer had made his way back to his squad on their roof.

"SITREP."

"It's not quiet anymore," SGT McCaffrey said, "we're starting to see some movement. What the hell did you all find?""Air conditioning."

"Hey sarge, did you say AC?" Broman asked.

"Aaaaaaaannnnnnd roger."

"Man, fuck this roof. I'm sweatin' like a fuckin' pig here and fuckin' First Squad always gets the cool cush jobs.

"Yep. Hey Striker Three-Zero, this is Echo One."

"Go for Striker." He replied.

"We've got some movement over here, what have we got on station?"

"Looks like a pair of F18s."

"I was hoping for some A10s. I love to hear that gun.""Yeah I bet you do; look the F18s will work just fine.""AC-130?"

"F18."

"Little Birds?""F. 18."

"Fine. Can you see what I'm hearing right now?""No, but I'll ask the birds."

"Ya, sounds good."

Back in the bunker, LT Carson, SFC Joseph, SSG Albertin, SPC Zach, and the Iranian scientist faced another door, this one much smaller than the last, not much larger than a normal sized door.

"Open it."

The scientist turned and looked at LT Carson, then turned back to the door and entered a sequence on the number pad, heard a hiss, and pulled the door open. The sight that greeted LT Carson turned his blood to ice.

"Echo One, Striker."

"Send it Striker."

"Get down, F18 rolling in hot."

"What? What the hell do they see?""A whole lot of troops headed your way.""Shit. Ok."

LT Carson wasn't looking at biological weapons, nor even chemical ones. The room was about 8 feet by 8 feet, four small vents were in the ceiling at each corner of the room leading to the surface he guessed. The room had no chairs, no furniture of any kind. In it was some metal gridwork that looked built into the floor and the ceiling. In the middle, was what looked like a nuclear device.

LT Carson ripped off his mask and spoke into the mic, "It's a nuke."

Utter silence filled the airwaves for what seemed a lifetime.

SSG Schaffer was the first one to break the silence,

"Fuck. Striker call off the bombs!""Roger, roger."

SSG Schaffer took of his mask, "Don't need these anymore, boys." He said to his squad.

"White Six, this is Echo One. Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it sooner rather than later, we've got movement all over the place."

"Roger, calling to higher."

"Romeo X-ray, Romeo X-Ray, this is White Six, 'Homerun', I say again, 'Homerun', over.""White Six this is Romeo X-Ray, roger 'Homerun'."

"Romeo X-Ray this is White Six, I need Romeo Six on the net.""Roger, standby."

"White 6 this is Romeo Six, I understand 'Homerun', good work."

"Romeo Six, this is White 6………….'Foulball', over."

Romeo Six could not believe his ears. "Uh White Six I need you to confirm that last transmission.""This is White Six, I'm looking right at it, I say again, 'Foulball.'"

The battalion commander turned away from the handmic and yelled at his intel officer, "Why is there a goddamn nuclear weapon in the middle of Iraq?" The stunned intelligence captain stared, mouth agape.

"Romeo Six this is White Six, my Echo reports that we've got a massive counterattack in the works, and we need some air support, preferably something that doesn't drop bombs."

"Roger, we'll get it to you, just hold tight, and for God's sake, don't touch anything!"

"Roger, I wasn't planning to. White Six out."

LT Carson turned to SPC Zach, "Ask him if it's activated." But Zach's face had gone ashen.

"Sir, he says it's not a nuke; it's a time machine."

"What?"

"Alright Echo," Schaffer said to his boys. "No air support, prepare for counterattack."

"Shit sarge, it ain't all bad." SPC Kim said

"Oh yeah, why's that now?"

"We don't have to wear those shitty masks anymore."

"Well now that _is_ a good point." SSG Schaffer said with a smile, which was right at the time when SPC Kim opened up with his M240B.

SSG Schaffer looked through his NODS and saw the proverbial Mongolian Horde coming at them.

"Shit, shit shit. Counterattack," he said into the mic. "Lots of 'em!"

"Give 'em hell Echo," Schaffer screamed as all three guns opened up.

"Afirm. Albertin, what have you got?"

SSG Albertin had just come back from checking on his squad which was clearing other parts of the bunker.

"Sir, a bunch of offices, a supply room filled with parts I did not understand, and a conference room thingy, but no other weapons, or anything like you've got in here."

LT Carson sighed. He was faced with a decision. His Platoon thought that they were now trying to defend a nuclear weapon, and he hesitated to tell them that it was instead an Iranian time machine. He was sure they wouldn't believe him, hell, _he_ didn't believe it.

"All White elements, this is White 6. You're not going to believe this, but it's not a nuke. It's a time machine."

SSG Miles was the first to break the stunned silence.

"Yeeeeaaaahhhhhh suuuuuuuuuuure it is. Hey did you find a DeLorean down there too? I always wanted one of those."

"White 2, this isn't a joke. I'm not kidding. This scientist says it's not a nuke, it's a time machine."

Again there was silence on the radio.

SSG Hawkins, who was usually a quiet individual broke the silence, "And you believe him?"

"White 4, you should see this facility, then you should see this scientist's face, and then you should see this device; one thing I'm sure of at this point, it's not a nuke. If it's not a nuke, then what am I to believe that it is, other than what our tour guide says it is?"

SSG Hawkins opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. In his mind he was thinking "Charlie Foxtrot" while the rest of the Platoon said it aloud.

_30 minutes before temporal event_

Back up on Weapon's squad's rooftop, Echo 1 was in the firefight of his life.

"Roberts, get me SMAW-D's there," he said pointing, "there, and there."

Roberts didn't bother answering, he just fired the first SMAW-D and was rewarded with a nice explosion about 200 meters away complete with the screams of dying men.

"White 6 this is Echo 1, I could use some support over here."

"Roger, White 2 I need you to go help out."

"Negative, negative, we've got our own problems," he dropped the handmic, "Hey Acevedo, start pumping 203 rounds out there, we've got to back them up."

"Roger."

"MEDIC!" Echo 1 yelled into the mic, Roberts was hit and hit bad.

PFC Thomsen was the closest and ran from his covered and concealed position in the bunker building towards Weapons squad's location.

"Shit, Albertin take your squad and give him cover!"

"Roger sir. Alright First, let's go, Bravo lead out, and move!" White 1 probably didn't have to add that last part, he figured that everyone had a firm grasp of the situation, but Thomsen was fast, especially when it came to saving lives, and Albertin knew it would be hard to keep up with him.

His Bravo Team Leader, SGT Deugan, wasn't the fastest Soldier in the Platoon, but he was motivated, and he was a great shooter. He was right on Thomsen's heels running out of the air-conditioned bunker, and into the heat again. He grabbed Thomsen just as he was about to run out of the building and into the street.

"Hey," he said breathing hard, "let us get the street cleared."Thomsen nodded.

SGT Deugan started to "pie" the corner and almost put his barrel into an Iranian's face. He pulled the trigger and dropped him.

"Shit!" He screeched as a hail of bullets forced him back into the room. "We've got to get the street cleared," he yelled to no one in particular.

Schaffer heard the exchange while trying to save Roberts' life. "God dammit Echo your brother is dying!" He hated saying it, because his boys knew the deal and Echo was closer knit than the other squads. Still, he knew that they needed a little motivation.

Kim picked his gun up and ran to the other part of the roof and started hosing down the street. SGT McCaffrey joined him, on the far corner of the roof and the crescendo was deafening, and it was working. Kim and McCaffrey weren't even "talking" the guns, which was the art of one gun shooting while the other one cooled down. It also served to conserve ammo. But now, with their brother dying, both guns were going full bore.

It was enough for Thomsen to bolt across the street and into the building across the street. He raced up the stairs and came upon Schaffer with his one hand on a pressure bandage on the back of Roberts' head and his other hand inside his stomach.

Thomsen threw his bag ahead of him as he flopped down and ripped open the bag.

"Vitals?" Thomsen asked.

"Not so much Doc," Schaffer replied. "The back of his head's a mess, and there's some shrapnel in his belly."

"What the hell hit him?" Thomsen asked as he replaced Schaffer's hand with his own in Roberts' belly.

"No idea man. He was hittin' targets with the SMA-Ds, and then he just stopped. I looked over and he was laying out on the ground; probably an RPG that I couldn't hear over the noise."

"Roger," Thomsen replied as he checked for vitals.

Schaffer got back to running the fight.

"JTAC, we need air cover."

"Roger, F18s are on station providing ISR until the A-10s get here."

"How long until the A-10s get here?"

"10 minutes," Imholte replied.

"Well we're gonna be dead way sooner than that; roll in the F18s," Schaffer ordered. I doubt they're gonna set off a time machine." As soon as the words left his mouth he realized how ridiculous they sounded.

"I was just waiting on the word," Imholte replied, wishing they weren't in such dire straits; it's not often that anyone gets an opening like Schaffer just gave him. "I've had 500 pounders holding for like three minutes now."

"Viper Nine One this is Red Dog Five Zero, you are cleared to drop my position east of target 500 meters. Confirm 500, over."

"This is Viper Nine One, roger confirm 500. Time on target 15 seconds."

"White 6 this is White 2, I've got one KIA, over."

"Roger," the PL said as he turned to his Platoon Sergeant. "This is starting to get bad."

"You got that right, sir. Any luck with battalion? Seems like we're out here flapping in the breeze."

"I don't know what the hell's going on, I've gotten nothing from them since I told them about the nuke. I can't even get a radio check anymore."

"You think we're being left to die? They ran that info up the chain and were told that we're 'expendable'?"

The young officer considered this for a moment. "I don't know; it feels that way doesn't it?" He rubbed his face suddenly feeling decades older. "Well, we've got to figure out how to get everyone out of here."

BOOM

"White One this is Six, what the fuck was that?"

"Six this is One, Air Force dropping bombs; should be more coming, out!"

"Six this is Echo, JTAC says that the A10s aren't coming, they've been called off by higher. He says that he's going to try and con the F18s into dropping the rest of their ordinance, but he's having a tough time convincing them."

"Echo this is Six, how's your casualty?"

"Well the first one is KIA, the second one isn't doing well."

"Alright, all White elements, listen up. We're going to all pull back to the bunker, and hole up until the Battalion QRF gets here. Echo, stay up on the roof and give us cover fire; Red Dog, try to get what you can out of the aircraft; snipers, stay sharp I need you guys to conduct counter-sniping OPS, I think that's what's chewing up Echo. White two, before you start your move into the bunker, I need you to conduct aid and liter OPS to get our dead and wounded down there first before we can move the rest of the platoon down there."

He turned to his platoon sergeant, "Did I forget anything?"

"No sir, I think that covers it. I'll go up and direct traffic for the casualties, that should free you up to go direct the fight."

"Ok, I'll take Zach with me, and leave the elements of second who aren't involved in aid and litter to hold here."BOOM

"Fuck, now what," Carson asked.

"Fuck, fuck, ah shit they're all dead! A fucking rocket just killed them all!"

* * *

Authors Comments: Yep still ghost written by my friend, like I said before he's better at small arms tactics than I am, so we I get to do all the technoblabble portions, he gets to write the fun stuff. No...I did not tell him to put that obvious of a shout out in, but hey, it works. It will be a while for the next update to come along, considering my co-writer is pretty busy, so I will be stuck fleshing out the two battalions roster list. till next time, may the TARP!


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